All or Nothing at All(49)

"You're getting that intense look again," she practically whispered.

"I'm not thinking about work."

She took a step backward. Raised her chin. Rallied. "I'm not doing this with you," she stated. "We had our shot, and it became a disaster."

He took a step forward. "We were young and foolish. Now we're different."

"We're involved in an important project. I refuse to screw up this opportunity."

"We're adults. We've worked together before. I swear I'd never let personal interfere with business."

Her thighs hit the back of the sofa. She stood her ground, refusing to back off, and the way she fought only made his dick harder as his blood thickened in the heat of the chase. He practically shook to touch her, his mind wrecked from being in her presence all day, smelling her sweetness, the pull of her body heat driving him mad.

Her voice rumbled in a catlike growl that made him want to howl with lust. "I'm not your plaything any longer, Tristan Pierce. You don't snap your fingers, and I don't come running. Your best bet is to turn around and walk back out that door, and we'll forget this slipup ever happened."

He paused, letting his gaze linger, touching each part of her body as if he were using his fingers. The pulse in her neck beat rapidly, and her breath was erupting into ragged pants. A slight trembling shook her. But it was her eyes that confirmed his truth. Pupils dilated, the emerald green drowned to black, filled with emotion.

Anger. Frustration. Wariness.

Lust.

He would have left her alone if he'd only spotted the first three. But there was no way he'd walk out now when he guaranteed she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

"Don't want to walk out," he drawled. "Want to kiss you instead."

Her eyes widened. A gasp erupted from her plump lips. "Don't you dare! I'm not playing games, you big jerk. You can't get what you want all the time just because you've got a sudden urge to walk down memory lane. Get out."

"Have no interest in living in the past. I'm more interested in the present. The woman you are and have become. The woman who is making me lose sleep every night. Wanna know what I see in my dreams?"

"No."

"I'll tell you anyway. I dream you walk into my room and slide into my bed. Of course, you're naked, 'cause it's my dream, and all that bare, silky skin slides over mine and drives me insane. Your hair spills into my fingers, and when I kiss you, you make this delicious whimper that makes me want to give you every pleasure imaginable."




 

 

"I've heard enough. You need to-"

"I kiss you deep and hard, making sure you know how much I want you. Your mouth is so wet and hot, just like I know your pussy will be. I can't wait any longer, so I trail my fingers between your thighs, and when I brush your swollen clit, I know how bad you need me to take away the ache."

He stopped a few inches away. Transfixed, her breath coming in choppy gasps, fists clenched, she seemed to struggle for sanity, but his words had already cast their spell. She'd always been turned on by his verbal foreplay, and a fierce flow of satisfaction rushed through him, knowing his voice could still drive her to the limit.

"But I don't. I let you wait. The tips of your breasts are tight and achy, so I bend my head and take them into my mouth and suck hard. At the same time, my finger plays in your sweetness, sliding inside your drenched, tight heat, feeling you clench around my finger and pull me back in. Your body goes wild for me, until I pin you to the mattress to keep you still, wrench your legs apart, and slide inside in one quick thrust."

She stayed perfectly still, caught up in the fantasy he wove around them. Lips parted, eyes glassy, she swayed slightly on her feet. He reached out slowly and tangled his fingers within her fiery curls, pulling her head back. Her neck arched in a perfect, vulnerable column. He lowered his head and breathed her in, drunk on the scent of musk and citrus. He pressed her slightly back so she was bent over the back of the couch. Her nipples stabbed through the silk of her blouse.

"Then I fuck you, Sydney. I bury my aching dick inside of you, thrusting like a wild man, needing to soak up and feast on every inch of your sweet body. Your pussy squeezes me, and you scream my name, and I feel you come all over me. I feel the sting of your nails digging into my shoulders and the way you shake underneath me, and I know the only thing I want in this world is to be able to do it again and again and again."

His lips halted an inch from hers. His fists clenched in her hair. Still, he waited, needing her to be a full partner, needing her to be as crazed as he for one tiny taste, needing her to say it.

She shuddered. Licked her lips. And whispered, "Do it."